


Hormonal Imbalance

by LilahMontgomery



Category: Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z
Genre: Drama, F/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-06 04:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5402285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilahMontgomery/pseuds/LilahMontgomery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set when Bulma discovers she is carrying Trunks. Vegeta and Bulma have several honest discussions which change the course of both of their lives forever. Explores a little theory I have about Saiyans... [Vegeta/Bulma]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

#  Hormonal Imbalance

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

Bulma's hands shook as she tried to hold them still, clasping them in front of her knees as she sat in the bathroom, waiting.

Wearing only her tank top and underwear, she shivered in the cold of the tiled room, unwilling to move until she had her answer.

Her day had started like any other these days: she had woken up at 6am, looked over to find Vegeta had left either during the night or before she had woken up, as usual. She had showered, brushed her teeth, drank three cups of coffee, then preceded to the lab to work on the drones her boyfriend had broken.

Boyfriend? Is that what he was?

Bulma shifted her weight and ran her fingers through her hair.

Vegeta had fallen into bed with her a few months after Yamcha had left.

At first, it had all been physical, fulfilling a biological need both of them had. Bulma smiled thinking of the overwhelming passion of the first few encounters, the desire and lust which had consumed them. They never talked about it and they acted as they always had during the day-like a secret they shared, kept behind closed doors.

In the last month or so though, Bulma felt whatever this was had evolved.

She shook herself from her thoughts to check the time, only to find she still had to wait another two minutes.

Her mind took her back to him.

It had started to feel different.

The fire between them had slowed down but grown in intensity. More than once, her blue eyes had locked with his black ones during the act itself, stirring something within her she had never experienced before.

Pleasure had become amplified from the slightest of touches, a deep yearning for his presence taking over her every thought.

Whether he reciprocated this was unclear.

Vegeta was blunt, dismissive and distant.

He barely spoke before, during or after sex- though strangely, she had started waking up in the early hours to find him asleep beside her, and had caught his eyes lingering on her during the day, if only for a moment.

Bulma shook her head again and straightened up, rolling her shoulders and willing her eyes to stop stinging with tears.

Vegeta was so mysterious, so powerful and strong- but just impossible to talk to on any human level.

"He isn't from here…Why do I keep forgetting that?" She told herself, checking her watch again.

Yes, the day had started like any other, apart from the sense something was wrong.

She couldn't shake it, all the way up to lunch time. She was distracted, irritable and tired. After a quick calculation, PMS definitely accounted for her mood, but she thought she'd do a pregnancy test, just to be sure.

Nervousness overtaking her emotions, she checked her watch once more. Nearly time.

"It'll be negative," She reassured herself, pushing her hair off her face and standing to face herself in the mirror, "I'm on the pill, it's never let me down before…it'll be fine…"

* * *

Vegeta howled in annoyance and smashed his hand into the 'off' button of the gravity simulator.

Beads of sweat ran down his body as he collapsed to his knees on the floor, gasping for breath.

He swore in his native language and flopped onto his back, wiping sweat out of his eyes as his skin met the cold of the metal floor.

His training had hit a plateau and he wasn't getting anywhere. Whatever the solution was, it was alluding him.

His hands balled into fists as he struggled to recover from his session, frustration seeping into every corner of his fragile mind.

A screen lit up beside him and the blue-haired woman's face appeared projected on it.

"Hey, you, how're you doing?" She asked, smiling slightly.

Vegeta turned his head away, refusing to interact with her.

She seemed undeterred.

"Ok, I get it, I didn't mean to bother you," She explained quickly, "we should just have a talk after dinner, ok? Can I come see you in your room around eight?"

Vegeta made a non- committal grunt which Bulma took as confirmation.

"Ok, good luck then. See ya later!"

The screen vanished and the pod was plunged into near darkness again.

Vegeta exhaled angrily, only to find he had lost his train of thought.

He ran his hands down his body, checking for injuries under his skin before feeling himself hardening at his own touch.

"Dammit!" He muttered, "Not now!"

He sat up and tried to shake himself out of it.

Random erections, an increased sex drive and uncontrollable mood swings: this planet was finally getting to him. How long had this pattern of behaviour been happening?

Grabbing a towel and drying his neck, Vegeta thought back over the last month or so.

Yes, he had definitely started feeling unbalanced and off for a few weeks and it was almost certainly the Earth female's fault.

His previous sexual experiences had been far between, fleeting and almost all for the thrill and fun of conquest. He could barely remember any of their faces, let alone names- not that he'd cared much at the time anyway.

This was the first time he had gone back again and again to the same person.

"Not like I have much option…" he noted, bitterly.

As a soldier, he had developed a bloodthirsty and fearsome reputation.

He had encouraged the outlandish rumours about himself, as the fear of any of the gossip being true kept enemies away to the most part.

It had kept everyone else away though too, including women.

Vegeta sighed and left the towel in a pile for someone else to deal with before exiting the ship, his traitorous appendage having softened again.

He crossed the grass towards the house, still deep in thought.

He had walked in and caught Raditz screwing a girl in the living room of their shared quarters when he was no more than ten. Confused by what he had seen, he had asked his body guard, only then to have been subjected to a humiliating discussion on sex and Saiyan sexual functions.

His face flushed at the memory of Nappa attempting to draw pictures of reproductive organs on a piece of paper.

In a nutshell, Nappa had explained, Saiyans could screw any time they wanted, the basic function worked and was pleasurable, but the females would not release eggs and the males would fire blanks until a chemical cascade was triggered by 'mating' or 'bonding'.

Sex was one thing to Saiyans, but their fertility only came when there was a deep emotional connection formed and this was a different thing entirely.

Vegeta opened the door to the compound and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, finishing it in a few gulps.

The hormonal cascade could only be triggered by one mate per lifetime: fertility would come and go in cycles of a few years, but the bond between mates would remain indefinitely.

The Prince shuddered at the thought.

Throwing the empty bottle into the trash, he went to his room to shower, trying to shake the feeling of frustration and unease.

He had felt very hormonal lately, but that couldn't be... could it?

He reached for the shampoo and massaged it gently into his scalp.

If a massive dose of hormones had hit him strongly enough to bond him to another being for life, he would definitely had noticed it, he figured. Besides, the earthlings were a pathetic, weak species, hardly worthy of his presence, let alone his devotion.

The earth woman, Bulma, was fiery and useful, he had to admit he enjoyed her company- and her body, but that was all.

The androids were coming in two years. Vegeta had yet to become a Super Saiyan and his rival- that low born third class clown-was still breathing. The Prince did not have time to be distracted by emotional nonsense.

He had seen lovers die, holding each other and whispering reassurances as they perished. Vegeta would not allow himself to give in to such weakness.

"She means nothing to me. This is idle lust, nothing more…"

* * *

Bulma squeaked in surprise as the Saiyan entered his bedroom at eight o'clock exactly. His eyes narrowed as he noticed she had sat on his bed: a personal intrusion normally intolerable.

Right now, however, curiousity got the better of him and he chose to forgive her indiscretion-for the time being.

He made his way to the chair by the desk, sitting with his legs crossed and his arms folded over his chest.

"What do you want, Woman? As you know very well, I do not appreciate being distracted from my training…"

A warning shot to get this discussion done quickly, not worth ignoring.

Bulma gulped and straightened herself up, locking eyes with him and frowning slightly.

"We have a problem, Vegeta. I don't want you to freak out or have one of your tantrums, just hear me out, ok?"

Vegeta ignored the knot which was forming in his stomach and fixed an annoyed expression on his face, giving away nothing.

"Go on…" He invited, his voice cold.

Bulma looked away and pouted slightly.

"I'm pregnant…I took the test last night, then another this morning… we need to discuss options…"

Vegeta's breath caught and he blinked in shock.

"I know, I'm a little surprised too!" Bulma stated, noticing his reaction, "My birth control has never been a problem before…it's not a hundred percent, but close enough!"

"How do those pill things work?" Vegeta inquired, struggling to remain calm, "could you be mistaken?"

Bulma shrugged and shook her head thoughtfully.

"They work using hormones to stop my ovaries releasing eggs…" she explained, "I have to take it every day, which I have been… false positives are rare but they do happen I guess…"

_Hormones?_  He thought,  _Maybe if my body had produced a high enough dose, it could have rendered the pills ineffective? Does that mean my body's strange behaviour **is**  linked to mating? No! Impossible! I'd have noticed that..._

"It isn't mine… you have been unfaithful…"

Vegeta's words had a physical effect on the human woman who recoiled violently and stared at him with large, frightened eyes.

"No!" She said quickly.

"Tell me the truth!" Vegeta snapped, standing up and looming menacingly over her.

"I am!" She protested, "Why would you think that? I haven't been with anyone else in months! It could only be you, I swear!"

Bulma pressed herself into a defensive ball with her hands covering her face, her pleas sounding sincere.

Vegeta backed off and started turning over the ramifications of this new development in his mind, his heart racing.

Bulma wiped her eyes of stray tears and unfolded herself slowly.

"Vegeta…"She said cautiously.

The man turned back to her, his body language softer but his eyes full of unfathomable emotion.

"We could terminate?" she suggested.

Vegeta's breath caught slightly but his face continued to betray nothing.

"I need to think. I'll be back. Do nothing until I return."

With that, he turned and left the room, setting off into the air the moment he got outside. Bulma watched him leave from the bedroom window.

* * *

Bulma's head jerked up as she heard the door to the lab open.

It had been two days since her conversation with Vegeta and had taken two more tests just to confirm, both positive.

To take her mind off things, the heiress had thrown herself into her work. She rubbed her eyes and unstuck the papers from her cheek, realising she had once again fallen asleep on her desk.

"I have returned."

She spun around in her chair and stared at the muddy form of Vegeta as he stood confidently in the middle of the room. He strode over and sat on the desk nearby without waiting for a response.

"Saiyans are not like humans," He began, glancing at her only to confirm that she was listening, "we are not fertile all of the time from adolescence. We experience a second hormonal trigger- like a second puberty- and for a short time we can reproduce before becoming infertile again. Raditz figured we could have sex without the worry of children outside of these periods so we could 'practice for real mating'. Nappa had the theory that since reproduction takes a hell of a large amount of energy and is so distracting, we only have short bursts every few years so we can focus on fighting…"

He paused and glanced up, trying to read her expression.

Bulma's mouth had dropped open and her tired eyes were wide.

She realised he had stopped speaking and put her fingers to her chin thoughtfully.

"Every few years, huh? Is that why Goku only has Gohan right now? I know ChiChi wanted a couple of kids…but you're saying Goku couldn't produce any more for a while?"

Vegeta's brows knitted together in annoyance at the mention of his rival's name, but nodded anyway.

"But, you're in your thirties now, have you had this cycle before? Is this your first kid or are there others?"

Vegeta did not like this line of questioning and made an irritated sound in the back of his throat in reply.

"No. Definitely no others…"

"What triggers the hormones then?"

The Prince stayed quiet for a long time. He shifted his posture so that his elbows rested on his knees and fixed his gaze on the floor.

Bulma watched him, unsure of what to do.

After a long, uneasy silence, the man spoke.

"Emotion."

The word was said so quietly, Bulma almost thought she had imagined it.

"Emotion?" She asked, leaning towards him, "like…love?"

Her stomach did a flip the moment she had said it and she cried out in surprise when the Saiyan stood abruptly and started pacing around the room.

"Love? Oh yes, that earth nonsense. What does that word even mean? You use it for everything!" The Prince declared, "You said you 'love' those chips you were eating last week when we were watching that stupid movie. You also stated you 'love' your parents! When they told me my home had been destroyed, I did not equate the loss of my family to the loss of my snacks!"

He blinked for a moment realising he had blurted out something unintentionally personal and struggled to regain composure. He looked over to Bulma who was holding herself up on the desk, staring at him in disbelief.

"What I'm experiencing," he explained, his tone more even, "is a hormonal reaction brought on by companionship and the need to procreate- that's all!"

Bulma nodded slowly and tidied her hair to buy herself some time, her thoughts racing.

"So…the baby…?" She asked.

Vegeta scoffed and sat down on the edge of the desk again.

"Is probably my only chance at having children- an eventuality which has never featured before in my mind! With the androids predicted to kill me…" he finally made eye contact with her for the first time in the whole exchange, "well, offspring assures 'biological immortality'…"

"So…we're keeping the baby?" She asked, confusing even herself at how hopeful her voice sounded.

Vegeta shrugged heavily and stood up before nodding slightly.

"I am no 'father' though. I'm a warrior- I will not be tricked into becoming domesticated. You have my genetic material and my protection, do not expect me to become soft like Kakarot is-that will  _ **not**_  happen!"

Bulma nodded and raised an eyebrow.

"You'll stick around then- right? I could turn my room into a nursery and come share with you?"

The Saiyan started towards the door, leaving a trail of mud as he went. How had this happened to him? Why was he not fighting this harder?

He sighed in resignation and turned to her before he got to the door.

"I suppose that would be acceptable..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little theoretical explanation for:
> 
> a) Why the age gaps between ALL of the half-saiyans is so big
> 
> b) Why Frieza dismissed Vegeta as possibly being Gohan's father on Namek
> 
> c) Why Vegeta never says 'I love you' to Bulma, but still sticks around and is clearly devoted to her
> 
> d) How Saiyans can go off and train for ridiculous amounts of time without seeing their wives (or sometimes anyone at all) seemingly without it bothering them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is becoming a series of shorts set in the same story line, rather than a structured story with proper chapters.
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments etc, always good to gather opinions and ideas. 
> 
> The following leads on from the previous short and is how I imagine this going down.
> 
> Enjoy...

#  Marriage Proposal

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

Vegeta stirred on the metal floor and quickly assessed his physical situation and his location with the skill years of training had gifted him.

He was in the gravity pod. The gravity had reverted back to 1g after his loss of consciousness and his body was in bad shape.

He allowed himself a small groan of pain before gritting is teeth and standing, putting his agonising muscle pain to the back of his mind.

He had over done it.

It had been years since he had actually passed out from simple over-exertion, yet here he was doing it again.

And he still wasn't a Super Saiyan.

Vegeta closed his eyes for a moment and let the disappointment and hopelessness wash over him before shaking it off and re-asserting his military mind.

He crossed the room and went out into the yard, the cool night air drying his sweat and refreshing him.

He would try again tomorrow.

* * *

Bulma coughed and willed her body to relax. She sat on her heels, the toilet still in front of her within reach, and flushed the contents of her stomach away.

She wiped the tears away from her eyes before more replaced them, falling down her cheeks in flowing streams, betraying her emotions.

She choked back a sob and dry retched again.

"Woman?"

Bulma rested her head on the toilet seat and refused to look at him, her left hand covering her face.

"Woman- do you require assistance?" He asked briskly.

Bulma slowly shook her head, taking soothing breaths and closing her eyes.

Vegeta had continued training every day, ignoring her, as usual, unless he needed something.

The pregnancy was taking its toll on the young woman who had felt something akin to 'hungover' since week four and had spent the last two weeks sick as a dog and confined to bed.

If Vegeta was concerned, he was yet to show it.

She eased open her eyes carefully to find him sitting next to her on the cold laminated floor, his expressionless gaze fixed on the doorframe.

"What-what are you…what do you…?" Bulma struggled to get her words out or figure what she wanted to say. She gave up and looked at him in the hope he had understood.

"I have been frustrated all day and thought it may help me find rest if I were to have relations with you. I would not require long and can wait in the other room until you are finished here…"

His words were said in his usual gruff, formal manner and did not register a meaning for a few seconds.

Bulma sat up and glared directly at the unfeeling oaf next to her.

"Are you…? Did you just ask me for sex?" She spluttered.

Vegeta turned his black eyes on her, his face still expressionless and shrugged.

Bulma felt bile rise up again, but this time, it was in anger rather than nausea.

Vegeta read her face before the yelling started and stood before wordlessly leaving the room.

* * *

Vegeta found himself pacing on the balcony, his mind far from calm.

Humans could have multiple life partners if they wished and could breed with whomever caught their eye. What if his woman no longer desired him?

He sat on the railing, his arms crossed and eyes closed in deep thought.

This child she was carrying was his legacy, the half-blooded continuation of his royal genetics. He had become accustomed not only to the human female herself, but the lifestyle in which she allowed him to live: food and water whenever he wanted it, a comfortable bed and training facilities which suited his needs.

He shuddered at the memory of his old life: the nights spent shivering in the open air, ears pricking up at the slightest sound and anxiety setting in. The frequent periods of starvation and pain from constant fighting.

He had served his time in the army, living the tough life of war- now he was enjoying luxury for the first time in his memory.

His thoughts shot to Yamcha, the woman's previous companion.

He had brought beautiful yet dying plants to the woman every weekend and had purchased food to enjoy together, despite there being a full fridge in the compound. Occasionally, the Saiyan had noticed, he had even attempted to win favour by plying her with alcohol: a drink known as 'Champagne'.

Vegeta had considered these mating customs as being ridiculous and foreign, relying instead on reading her body language and being direct.

What if these 'romantic favours' were what the woman wanted though? Would he have to lower himself to that to keep the attention of a human companion?

The Prince growled in annoyance and cursed his own body for creating this mess. He had no desire to humiliate himself by bowing to Earthling nonsense-however he could not ignore the fact that he was outside in the chill of the night rather than pressed against her, sated, in the warmth of her bed.

He opened his eyes as he heard the door opening and watched cautiously as Dr Brief stepped out onto the balcony.

"Cold night, son," The old man observed, pulling out a chair and positioning it near where the soldier was leaning.

Vegeta nodded irritably.

"I was meaning to pass on my congratulations," The scientist continued, lighting a cigarette and sitting down, "I must be going do-lally since I didn't even know you and my daughter were an item!"

Vegeta registered the undertone of disapproval and turned away without answering, his face burning.

He heard the other man let out a chuckle.

Confused, he glanced back, only to find Dr Briefs smiling slightly, looking up at the stars.

* * *

Bulma curled up feeling completely exhausted, ready to sleep though her mind was still awake. She kept thinking of her Saiyan lover feeling a combination of guilt and anger.

"The nerve of that guy!" She said to herself, pulling her knees up to her aching stomach.

The door opened and shut behind her, but the threat of another wave of nausea prevented her from rolling over.

"I'm not in the mood, Vegeta, don't bother!" She snapped, guessing who had entered her room.

She felt the bed drop on one side before a strong pair of muscled arms pulled her gently against a large, solid chest.

His breathing was wonderfully slow and rhythmic, his smell so familiar and sweet.

Confused but grateful, she carefully eased her body against his and basked in the warmth of the contact.

Her thoughts filled with nothing but him, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Bulma woke to a disgusting lurch from her stomach. Her thoughts raced as she embraced the continued misery, running across to her bathroom and retching over the toilet.

To her surprise, she heard Vegeta get out of bed and enter the room. She watched him sit on the edge of the bath.

"Are you sick? You were doing this last night…" He muttered, looking away as she threw up the water she had just sipped.

Bulma crumpled to the floor and gazed at him with watery eyes.

"It's called morning sickness- though I seem to be sick all the damn day… it's a pregnancy symptom. Everyone knows that, how do you not know that?"

"How would I know that?" Vegeta snapped, standing up and walking to the door. He heard her muttering insults at his back and felt the fear of rejection once again.

Under Frieza, Vegeta had worked hard. He was as ruthless as he'd had to be on the field, though the work was often disturbing. However, any display of weakness was the surest way of getting killed in the force and Saiyans were not a popular species.

Feelings of remorse had to be locked away deep down, ignored forever, false arrogance and bravado covering any gaps in his psyche.

Life was so cheap under the tyrant, a stray energy beam could end your miserable life in an instant without warning or you could meet a painful end at the hands of a waiting gang hiding in the shadows.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked from the door over his shoulder to Bulma, realising how different his life was turning out now that he was with her. He had a sense of hope and purpose he did not wish to lose.

She was retching again and appeared to be focussed on stopping her body from lurching any more.

"How do humans make relationships permanent?" He asked, a prickly tone to his voice.

Bulma stopped retching and looked behind at him, her face a mask of confusion.

"You mean like, marriage?" She asked.

"What's marriage? Does that tie us together?" He snapped, his patience wearing thin.

Bulma turned her body round on the floor, her delicate silk night slip barely covering her slim form. The man had to fix his eyes on her face to prevent himself being distracted.

"Yes…Promises are exchanged and papers are signed to link the couple together until death…why are you asking?"

The prince nodded. It would make sense that Earthlings would have to contractually tie their mates down to prevent them from running off as their biology allowed.

He needed to trap this woman for his own sake, the threat of her losing interest and raising his child with another male was too infuriating to bare, as well as the fact that he would be unable to mate again.

"Very well. Since we have decided to produce offspring together, it would be prudent to engage in this 'marriage' custom. I want to be secure in my role here and do not wish to share you or your attention with anyone else. In exchange, I will protect you and the infant, as well as assisting you to raise it. Do you agree to my terms?"

Bulma did a double take and stared at him in complete shock.

"I-Did-Did you just ask me to marry you?"

"It's a good offer, I suggest you take it. Think about it, I'm going to train: I've wasted enough time with this nonsense…."

With that, he swiftly exited the room, leaving the bemused woman spluttering on the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

#  The Argument

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

A cold breeze blew through the trees on the lonely, dark world.

The vegetation on the ground was sparse and brittle, the trees had no leaves and the temperature was almost painfully low.

Vegeta sat on a rock near his space ship, turning over the weekend's events in his mind.

There had been an argument: a big one, and he was unsure where it had come from.

Bulma was three months pregnant and her morning sickness was finally going, though her moods were varied at best.

She regularly went from laughing at a joke to sobbing for no reason at the slightest change in the wind, making her unpredictable and irritating to be near.

Vegeta's breeding cycle was wreaking havoc with his moods as well. He was able to go from quiet determination to shrieking with frustration within seconds, sometimes causing damage to the gravity pod but more often than not, himself.

His pattern of behaviour had concerned his new mate, though she was annoyingly clingy and overbearing. He had made it clear many times that she needed to warn him before making any physical contact- something he had trained himself to see as an attack- yet she took her life in her hands virtually every night, scooting over to encircle him with her arms and yelling at his angry reaction.

It was becoming more and more clear that they were different species from different backgrounds, and both had voiced their concern that their arrangement was a mistake.

Vegeta sighed loudly and looked up at the strange night sky of the planet he had landed on. His eyes scanned the stars, looking for anything he recognised, but it was very foreign. In more ways than one, he was a long way from home.

The argument had been about him training too much, as their rows so often were.

Bulma had initiated contact, straddling him when he was relaxing on the couch. Mentally, he had no interest at all, but his body had responded so strongly he had not been able to resist and became a slave to his instincts.

It was while they were lying next to each other on the rug in the living room, recovering from their passionate coupling, that Bulma had made the comment which had started the fight.

"That was amazing," she'd cooed, rolling over and smiling at him, "it's about time you remembered how 'doable' I am!"

He had still been seeing dots in his vision so his response was simply to roll his eyes at her vanity and let the comment slide. She however, seemed to have a bee in her bonnet and didn't want to let it drop.

"I mean it…It's been a while, Vegeta. Maybe you haven't noticed since you _just train-train-train all day_ , but I have needs and it's your 'future husbandly duty' to fulfil them…"

That had been it. Like waving a red rag to a bull, she had crossed a line. He had launched into a tirade about how humans see sex like saiyans see fighting and before she got on her high horse about his training all the time, maybe she should be aware of her obsession with physical gratification.

Before he knew it, she was calling him every name under the sun, from 'boring' to 'heartless' and he was cursing in his mother tongue as he slammed doors and walked away.

He had tried to convince himself he did not need her nor the unborn child; that he could go back to being a mercenary, a vicious killer…but somehow none of that felt right anymore.

His mating triggers had bonded him to this unbearable-yet brilliant- female. His rival was still gaining strength and a wonderful new challenge in the form of the androids was fast approaching.

It would be madness to leave Earth behind now.

The Saiyan stood up and started gathering his ki.

He would ascend to legend, take down the androids unaided, destroy Kakarrot and prove his worth to anyone who had ever questioned him.

The Prince smiled as his power rose, sending dirt and dust flying across the ground.

Vegeta would soon be a soldier no longer. He was destined to become a God, the woman be damned.

* * *

Bulma had not stopped crying since Vegeta had left into space two days previously.

She had burned all of her bridal books in a feral act of rage, before sitting in front of the fridge and eating chocolate pudding straight from the serving bowl.

Her mother had caught her doing this and had offered to take her shopping, but Bulma was too beside herself to leave the house and had instead alternated between kissing photos of Vegeta and yelling out that she wished he would die.

His pillow still smelled of him, she noticed as she curled up in her bed.

She regretted having it out with him, it was just out of frustration she had said anything at all.

Vegeta was very guarded with his feelings and rarely let anything slip which hinted to emotions- apart from blind rage, which he had shown in spades the last few weeks.

Physical intimacy was really the only time she felt he had his guard down and confirmed how he felt about her.

His kisses were loving and soft, his eyes burned with the fire of lust as they made love. His gasps of pleasure were like little confessions of deeply held devotion to Bulma. She was addicted to hearing them.

She held herself, pretending her hands were his, filling her nose with his scent again.

She felt so stupid to have chased him away like she had.

"Dammit, kid, you're screwed!" She said softly to her belly, "both your daddy and I are raging hot-heads, you don't stand a chance!"

* * *

A couple of weeks went by and the Space ship returned one beautiful summer afternoon.

Bulma had been sunbathing in the back yard when she heard the ship hurtling towards her. She managed to gather her book and sunglasses and got out of the way before the ship landed with a loud 'boom' on the grass.

She swore and was thankful her parents were away that day, worrying about the noise scaring them, before running to the opening hatch.

Vegeta floated in the air towards her, his arms crossed and a triumphant look on his face.

"You aren't wearing much," he noted, landing a few inches in front of her face, "good, that'll save time…"

Bulma gasped as her mouth was claimed by his, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close.

She lost herself in kissing him back before pulling away.

"What's up with you? Not that I'm saying 'no', just this isn't like you! And where have you been?" She asked.

He released her and stepped back, grinning.

"I have started down the path to fulfilling my destiny," he announced.

Bulma gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

"You-you did it?" She asked tentatively.

"I have achieved the Super Saiyan Transformation. I am now a living legend, a tower of power and strength and will not be surpassed!"

Bulma's breathing became shallow and her heart started beating harder than she had ever known.

She allowed him to gather her in his arms and carry her inside.

* * *

"You know what I don't get?" Bulma started, watching the ceiling fan in her room turning, cooling the sweat off their bodies, "why you've managed the transformation _now_..?"

Vegeta groaned, wiped his brow with the back of his hand and covered his body to his waist with the sheet.

"I preferred it when we didn't talk after intercourse…" He grumbled.

"Hey!" She snapped, sitting up and shifting her weight to face him, "I'm serious! Haven't you been trying to transform for most of your life? How have you gained so much power in such a short amount of time?"

The man was lost at this question. As much as he wanted to dismiss her inexperienced opinion, he knew she had a point.

"I am uncertain…" He admitted after a long pause, "I have been pushing my body to the limits and beyond, but I do seem to have more capacity to endure a more rigorous training regime than ever before…"

The woman propped herself up with pillows and placed her hand on her stomach, her face etched with concentration as she focussed on the question.

Vegeta's gaze skimmed down her body to her stomach and gasped as a realisation hit him.

Could it be **_mating_** had been the cause of this sudden boost in power?

He blinked and stared upwards, immersed in the idea of it.

Nappa hadn't mentioned that, but that would make sense. A female who was carrying a child would be weaker than normal and unable to defend themselves. A new born would also be helpless and open to attack. If Saiyans could only produce children every few years, could it be that evolution had created a defence system? Was he getting his power because of…her?

He narrowed his eyes and cast off the notion, angry at himself.

This was a biological tie, a breeding partner- a vessel for his offspring and nothing more. The marriage he would participate in was to keep her from straying, not to fulfil a need within himself…

The human seemed to have noticed the inner struggle he was in. Her delicate hand reached out to touch his chest while she used a gentle sound to sooth him.

The Prince turned his back to her angrily, tugging his pillows farther away.

"We need to sleep, I have given you pleasure so I expect to be left alone now. And what have I said about touching me?"

He heard an annoyed sigh from behind him before she shifted down the bed and flicked the lamp off.

"One day, _my Lord_ , you'll decided what you want…" She muttered.


	4. Chapter 4

#  The Argument Part 2

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

Bulma sat with her hands clasped in front of her knees, waiting.

She was dressed in only her thin night slip so she shivered slightly in the cold of the bathroom. She jumped at a hammering at the door.

"Woman? I am back from my training and require a shower: are you going to take all night in there?"

Her face screwed up angrily though she held her tongue.

"I won't be long, Vegeta, go check on Trunks, would you?" She called back.

She ignored the irritated muttering as he sloped away and shook her head slowly.

Checking her watch, she had only two more minutes wait.

Bulma felt the rush of excitement hit her once again. She was three days late, though her period had not normalised yet so it was hard to tell, but she felt bloated and tired all of a sudden: definitely how it had started last time. She reflected on how different this time felt compared to the last time she had sat waiting for the test to complete.

She had given birth to a healthy baby boy in the hospital six months prior and could not be happier.

Vegeta did not seem like a natural father, though he did watch the baby like a hawk and had not ventured far from the compound since his birth.

He was still not particularly affectionate towards her, though she still caught him glancing at her when he thought she wasn't looking, even now.

She giggled at the thought.

Soon she may have another little addition to her unorthodox family and the androids were still months away from appearing.

"Woman: I believe he is wanting to feed, you are required." Came the stern order through the door.

Bulma gritted her teeth and picked up the pregnancy test before making her way to the door.

She opened it roughly and glared at the man holding her baby.

"Can't I have FIVE MINUTES without someone wanting something? I fed him ten minutes ago, he can't be hungry!" She snapped.

The baby was thrust unceremoniously into her arms while her alien partner pushed passed her.

"He is half Saiyan, get used to it." He answered gruffly, slamming the bathroom door and locking it.

Bulma looked at the little child in her arms. He was growing so quickly and he was feeding so often, Bulma had a headache most of the time. Whether this was because of his mixed parentage or normal for his age, Bulma was unsure. With Trunks being her first child, she had no experience.

She glanced down at the pregnancy test in her other hand and let out a disappointed grunt.

"Well, kid: looks like it's just me and you for a while yet…" She mumbled.

* * *

Vegeta rubbed the back of his neck as he sat up in bed.

The sun was just rising sending beautiful shards of orange light into the sky. The clouds looked like giant smoke rings dotted over the horizon and the morning was full of birdsong.

He glanced at Bulma, sleeping beside him.

They had been getting along much better of late though Vegeta suspected this was due to both of them having completed their goals: his to become a Super Saiyan and hers to have a baby and start a family.

The baby was wearing her out, though she was harassing him endlessly for physical attention and he could hardly keep up with her appetite.

It was as if while her desire increased, his had decreased.

He carefully climbed out of bed and performed a few stretches.

He had become accustomed to her: that was what he had told himself. His desire had not dropped off, it was that the novelty had gone and comfortable companionship had replaced it.

He did not wish to be bonded to anyone, though now that he was, the break from his isolation was welcome and did have its positive aspects.

Having a mate who could stray whenever she wanted was still troubling, however, and he had resolved not to leave her unattended for long periods of time.

He dressed in training shorts, socks and sports shoes and made his way downstairs to face the day.

* * *

A month had gone by since the last pregnancy test and Bulma was once again waiting for one to complete its analysis in the bathroom.

She gripped her legs in anticipation, excitement bubbling up yet again.

As much as she kept telling herself not to pin her hopes on things, she had become anxiously optimistic every time she was sat waiting.

She checked her watch again. One minute.

They had been intimate a lot this month, like Vegeta was trying to impress her. She usually initiated, but the last few times had been like at the beginning: him cornering her, suggesting something really erotic and sending her into a spin of lust and want.

She smiled and picked up the test, looking at the lines closely.

"What the hell is going on?" She exclaimed, throwing the test at the door in a rage, "What the fuck is wrong?"

* * *

Vegeta walked into the bedroom exhausted from his day of training. He had exceeded two hundred times Earth's gravity and was so drained he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

Suddenly, he was grabbed from the right side.

He held back a reaction when he realised it was his mate, who was now pawing at his wet tshirt, tugging it off.

He allowed the action, only due to the fact he was about to take off the garment himself.

He heard the baby giggling in his crib in the corner and stared at the woman, seeking an explanation.

One came in the form of an insistent kiss being pressed to his mouth.

He moved his head out of reach but her hands caressed his chest while she assaulted his neck instead.

He grabbed her by both arms and pushed her away.

"What do you think you're doing, Woman?" He snapped, "You cannot just grab at me like some dog on heat!"

Bulma blushed deeply but blinked at him with a demure expression.

"I just thought you may enjoy some fun after your long training day..?"

Vegeta sighed heavily and contemplated his situation.

Were he to fail to satisfy her, she would threaten to leave as she had before- except now she was not pregnant and therefore could make good on this promise.

However, he was tired and had no desire: he was not sure he could perform at all even if he tried. He had put so much extra effort in of late he had hoped she would have been satisfied for a while.

Bulma seemed to see the exhaustion in his eyes and her hungry expression softened slightly. She took his hands and led him to the bed before sitting him on the edge with her behind and massaging his neck and shoulders.

He purred at the action, despite himself.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just going through a 'super horny' phase," she lied, rubbing into a knot in his shoulder, "must be because I've got my body back…"

"Is that it? I can't help feeling there's something else and I despise being lied to…"

He felt Bulma go stiff behind him and his suspicions were confirmed. He stood up in front of her with his arms folded, staring angrily at her.

"What have you done? What are you hiding from me?" He snapped.

Bulma went crimson and played with her nails nervously.

"I-I…"

"Out with it!"

"I want another baby…" came the quiet answer.

* * *

The two sat at opposite ends of the room.

Vegeta was sat on the chair by the desk, his elbow rested on it and his head on his hand.

Bulma was sat pressed against the headboard of the bed, her knees to her chest, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Are you sure this 'breeding cycle' thing is over for now? When will it come back? Is there anything we can do?"

Vegeta sighed at her questions and fixed his gaze on the carpet a little way in front of him. His worst fears were coming true: biologically, a human mate would not work.

"I am uncertain. I was a young boy when I was told about it, I thought it of no consequence and did not inquire any further than the information I have already given you…"

"No consequence? You thought how Saiyans make babies was of 'no consequence'?" Bulma shot at him angrily.

"I did not foresee a situation where I would have children, it seemed a ridiculous notion. To a certain extent, it still is!" He shot back, his temper fraying.

Bulma's face dropped and she looked sad for him.

"You never thought anyone would love you? Or you didn't have sex before me?"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to leave the room. This was all becoming too personal and her assumptions were contemptable.

"Love is weakling nonsense, I have told you that many times. My previous sexual history is no one's business but my own- but no, I was experienced before you and that's all I'm saying. As for my assertion, I was referring to the fact that I had assumed I would be either dead or ruling the galaxy- I did not anticipate playing house with an Earthling and her half-breed child…"

Bulma went from pained to furious at his words and narrowed her eyes angrily.

"Well, I didn't think I'd end up 'playing house' with a man who's never around, fucks in the place of ANY romantic gesture and who can only produce kids when it's convenient for HIM!" She retaliated.

That was it, the saiyan's patience ran out and he stood and made his way to the door.

"That's right!" She cried, ignoring the noises of alarm from Trunks, "Run away again!"

It took all of Vegeta's self -control not to react and he stormed out of the door and down the corridor, leaving a raging Bulma behind.

* * *

The night before the androids arrived, Bulma was sat on the balcony overlooking the yard.

Trunks was fast asleep in his crib so she was alone with her thoughts.

Down below, she watched Vegeta crossing the yard towards the main entrance. She called to him and beckoned him up to her.

The Prince flew up to the balcony but stood several feet away, arms folded and glaring.

"Hey…" She started, feeling nervous, "I know we haven't spoken for a while, I just wanted you to know I want to talk whenever you're ready…"

His reaction was to sneer at her and shift his weight to one leg, leaning forwards.

"What's there to talk about? I wanted a place to train until the androids get here and you have provided that. You wanted a child, I have given you one. Now I wish to destroy those androids, kill Kakarot and take my rightful place in the universe. You want more children and a life of mediocrity, which, as we have discussed, I cannot provide- so what's the point of talking?"

Bulma blanched and sat back in her seat. As she looked at him, she couldn't help but feel a crushing loss, an overwhelming sadness. She wanted more kids, sure, but was he worth losing just for that? After all this time, after everything they'd been through together, she had to admit to herself: she was in love with him.

As this realisation dawned, she noticed Vegeta was already gone, his combat suit missing and his side of the bed empty.

To be continued...

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

#  Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

Vegeta stared out into the void of the Time Chamber, his mind starting to process the events of the last few days for the first time since the androids had appeared.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, struggling not to be consumed by pointless emotions.

He had become an 'undefeatable' being, a Super Saiyan- then had been defeated- by a machine no less.

When his rival had become a Super Saiyan, he had claimed his place in the universe by defeating Frieza: a victory which would have belonged to Vegeta, were there any justice in the world.

The Prince had become a Super Saiyan also, but had ended up laying on his back, both arms broken, helpless and at the mercy of androids- not even real people!

He fumed.

The shame had been almost too much to bare and the fury raging within him was beyond comparison.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder.

Trunks, his son from another future, was sat on the steps, clearly overwhelmed with the expanse of nothingness which the training space boasted.

Vegeta viewed it as appropriate. He felt it a poignant metaphor for how he was feeling: Empty and lost.

His thoughts lingered on a memory of Bulma for a moment.

The night before the androids were due they had as good as ended it. He had not told her about the permanent bond he would feel, it was too much pressure to put on her, she clearly didn't want him any longer and he did not want to confess a weakness.

He had gone back to being infertile and his moods were certainly evening out. His connection to her, however, was becoming harder and harder to dismiss.

It wasn't the rush of emotion as he had expected, it was more a deep feeling which strengthened every day.

No wonder he hadn't noticed at first, his only hope was that it would fade or become ignorable.

"Father…" Trunks called from the stairs.

Vegeta winced at the title. The boy's father was dead and the name served as a reminder that there was an alternative version of himself who had been existing in Hell having died a failure.

He turned and narrowed his eyes at the youth.

"Do you want to train together?" Trunks asked hopefully, "we can boost our power a lot quicker if we work together…"

_Work together?_ Vegeta thought angrily, _Who does he think I am?_

The Prince stormed passed Trunks towards the kitchen, nostrils flaring.

"I train ALONE, got it?" He snapped.

Trunks followed him, displaying the stubbornness which he could have inherited from either parent.

"Don't do this, Father!" He implored, "We need to work together on this or we might not be able to gain enough power! Listen to me!"

Vegeta pulled a few cooking ingredients out of the fridge and glared at him over his shoulder.

"You have your way, I have mine. You should respect that and stay out of my way…" He threatened.

The younger man backed off and looked troubled. His fists clenched tightly and his jaw locked.

Vegeta felt his stomach drop slightly at the sight but shook it off and started chopping vegetables into a pan.

"Don't you care..?"

The question was fairly quiet but Trunks' voice carried a dangerous edge.

"What was that?" The Saiyan snapped.

"I said don't you care?" Trunks shouted, stepping towards him, "Don't you care about the fact that the androids destroyed my home- my entire world? Don't you care how many people have died because we couldn't stop them?!"

"Why?" Vegeta asked, rage bubbling over, "Will 'caring' bring them back?"

Trunks stopped in his tracks, suddenly lost for words.

Vegeta threw the knife down and glared at him with his obsidian eyes.

"'Caring' is a luxury few can afford, Trunks," he explained quickly, "during battle, weak, pointless thoughts like that will distract you and get you killed. If you chose to 'care', why not go to the hospital in North City? Plenty of sick people there for you to grieve over. Go and cry with them and hold their hands, leave the soldiers to fight the war…"

His words hung between them for a moment before Vegeta turned back to the pan and finished chopping.

He wasn't sure where his outburst had come from, but he had a horrible suspicion someone else had yelled something similar at himself once, a long time ago.

He heard Trunks sit down at the table.

"Have you always been like this?"

"Like what?" The prince snapped, turning the gas on and stirring the vegetables over the heat.

"So…cold..?"

"I'm disciplined, boy, something you must train yourself to be if you are to survive on battle fields much longer…"

Trunks went quiet for a long time behind him though he resisted his instinct to turn around. The vegetables were cooking through nicely so the Saiyan turned down the heat and put on some noodles, stirring them with a large ladle.

"Gohan tried to train me…he did the best he could… he was trained by his dad…he died when Gohan was young too…"

The boy sounded lightly distant, like he was reminiscing to himself, not just explaining his past to Vegeta.

The Prince sniffed at his words, brushing off the sting.

"Dwelling on the darkness of the past is something done by the weak!" He chided.

He had a flash of emotion from long ago. An ache of loss and sense of abandonment. Since becoming a Super Saiyan, he had found his thoughts flashing to his own father, though these feelings of sentimentality were brushed off almost instantly by a mind which had known enough pain to last a lifetime.

The Saiyan added meat strips to their meal and plated up, putting a large bowl in front of a dazed looking Trunks.

The youth nodded in appreciation and tucked in, unaware of his father's eyes flicking to him every few minutes.

The Saiyan had thought of leaving after this business with the androids was through in the hope that being away from Bulma would make not being with her more bearable. He had nowhere to go, but the thought of watching her move on and raise their son without him was torture, as much as he hated to admit it…

…But this boy was so keen to get to know him. He had nothing to offer, but this alternate version of his son really wanted whatever attention Vegeta would give him. It was confusing and made him think of his own Trunks in a different light.

The baby wasn't a person, he was a little thing which made noise, but not a person. The adult version somehow reminded Vegeta that the child wouldn't stay that way and one day, may need him.

The older man furrowed his brow. Perhaps there was a way of winning the woman's affections again, if he could make her see passed this 'baby obsession'. He had never given up before, why should her hormones beat him?

A smile crept onto his face. He would destroy the androids, show himself to be the strongest in the universe and win her back. The Saiyan Prince did not beg women for affection: she would have no choice but to fall at his feet again…

* * *

Several days went by without either of the young men speaking to each other.

Trunks was starting to realise that even without alarm clocks in this timeless void, Vegeta had somehow developed a ridged routine which he didn't seem to deviate from.

There were dishes in the sink from his parallel father's breakfast whenever Trunks got up and he could sense the older man training off in the distance of the chamber.

The half saiyan would come in exhausted after his training and regularly slept in his clothes, yet Vegeta always seemed to have the energy to wash himself, clean and dress any injuries and sleep peacefully ready for more training the next day. Trunks realised Vegeta had not been kidding when he called himself 'disciplined'.

The younger man hardly knew what to say to the prince at any given time.

Whenever his parallel father's black eyes were on him, Trunks felt he was standing before a furnace of power and ambition. Vegeta blazed with an inner strength the youth had never known and carried himself with dignity and nobility which was enviable.

Where Goku exuded warmth and openness, Vegeta gave the impression of competency: he may not hug you, but he knew what he was doing and often, that's what mattered. Trunks grew to appreciate the more subtle nature of his patriarch's personality.

* * *

"What's it like…being a father?" Trunks asked one morning when he had managed to get up at the same time as the soldier.

Vegeta looked at him with disapproval and Trunks regretted the question.

He was not used to being this guarded for this amount of time. His mother was a very open and friendly woman, very similar to himself in personality. Gohan had encouraged him to speak his mind and share his opinions with him.

Vegeta was private, serious and regal.

"I-I was just wondering if you enjoyed the role…never mind…" Trunks sank into his bowl, unsure of how to correct the damage.

He glanced up at the Saiyan who seemed to have decided to ignore him, chewing his toast rather than answering.

Trunks blushed and looked back at his plate.

"Why do you ask? What business is it of yours?"

Trunks glanced up at the snapped reply.

"I- Well, I'm just wondering about my dad…" Trunks replied quietly.

Vegeta was looking at him sternly and Trunks remembered his advice from the first day that had arrived.

"I know, I know…" Trunks conceded, "Don't dwell on the past…"

He carried his plate to the sink and washed it, keeping is eyes down before steeling himself and turning back to the table.

"I can't, you see…I can't have kids, nor could Gohan, so I was wondering, that's all," He admitted.

Vegeta stopped eating and turned his chair slightly to look at him.

"What do you mean, 'can't have kids'? What are you on about?"

"Mom ran a test trying to find out if it was possible to artificially boost our power…fight science with science as it were…anyway it turned out both me and Gohan are infertile...I'm sorry…I guess the Saiyan race dies with me…"

Trunks felt his eyes stinging as he said the devastating words out loud. He reached for the cloth to dry his hands with and watched Vegeta's expression morph from shock to stern.

"Your mother didn't tell you about the Saiyan breeding cycles then?" He asked, tilting his head.

Trunks blinked a few times and mirrored his expression and head movement.

Vegeta sighed and explained carefully what he had told Bulma just a couple of years previously, again leaving out the 'bonded for life' part of the process.

Trunks listened intently and felt a glimmer of hope.

"Saiyans must have evolved that way so they only had children with someone they felt close to, in the event either of the parents died in battle, they were guaranteed their kids would be looked after…" Trunks concluded.

Vegeta made a face.

"No- It's so that we can fight WITHOUT the distraction of the other parent or brats all the time," Vegeta countered, reclining in his chair but appeared to be contemplating the new interpretation.

Trunks sat down and placed his hands on the table, hope filling him from his feet up to the top of his head.

"So I may be able to settle down with a family when I take out the androids in my time?"

Vegeta nodded.

"Why didn't your mother tell you this? When we conceived our boy I had no choice but to tell her since the other option was to-"

Trunks glanced up at him after the older man had stopped so abruptly.

"…Never mind… Explain."

Trunks furrowed his brow and sat for a moment, arms folded and in deep thought.

It was not like his mother to keep things from him, but then, she rarely spoke of his father at home- he'd had to ask Gohan about him later on in his life due to so little being said. Could it be that the fact that Trunks had been created against the odds was too painful for her to say? Or was she trying to forget?

He lifted his gaze to the Saiyan again.

"I really don't know, father. I'll ask her when I see her. Can I ask you something?"

His parallel father shifted uncomfortably and leaned back, as if distancing himself from the question, but stayed seated, which Trunks took as consent.

"Are you and this Bulma together in this timeline?"

The prince's face became set into a deep scowl and he looked away.

"Why would you care? What business is it of yours?" Came the angry reply.

Trunks thought for a moment he'd seen hurt in the soldier's eyes before he wiped his expression completely and turned back to Trunks.

"If you want to have any future, children or not, we need to stop wasting time on this frivolous chatter and focus on gaining power. I will see you at lunch, I do not wish to be disturbed until then."

* * *

Vegeta was lying in his bed after his shower but sleep was not coming to him. His discussion with the boy earlier had shone a light on how little about his father Trunks knew, which was deeply troubling. Had she just forgotten him? Had she callously forged ahead and put him out of their lives?

He sighed and rolled over, catching a glimpse at the young man his boy would grow up to be.

Trunks was powerful and determined, but deeply emotional and had said he wanted a family above anything else. He grieved for his father and his friend, Gohan- he did not hold a grudge that either of them had let him down by not being strong enough. On Earth, it seemed the victories off the battlefield held higher value than power and glory alone.

Vegeta had never encountered this concept. Do whatever needs to be done to win, nothing matters more than the mission. That was all he knew.

He sniffed and rolled over again, pulling the sheets up to his nose.

'Love'. He didn't understand it, wasn't even sure what it was or what it meant, but he felt lost and empty without it: without her.

* * *

The Saiyan's emerged from a gruelling year of training and were met by the other fighters and- Vegeta's breath caught when he saw her- Bulma.

Their eyes met and for a moment, Vegeta forgot that they were still fighting. An inane comment from Karkarot broke the spell.

"I wouldn't mind knowing what you're doing here..?" He asked, his voice edged with hostility.

"I made new battle suits for all of you. If you stop being such a _jerk_ , Vegeta, you can have one too…" The Heiress shot back.

Vegeta was stunned into silence.

She was clearly still angry, why would she go to the effort of making new armour for him?

He changed into the body suit and carried his old outfit round the corner to the garbage, only to find Bulma waiting for him.

* * *

Bulma looked up at her prince's face, suddenly unsure of what to say to him.

She had been so crushed when she realised she couldn't have another child, but she had blamed him for his biology: she may as well have been mad at the grass for growing or the rain for falling.

She had her pride though and did not want to give him too much.

His expression was fixed and passive, giving no hint as to what he was thinking. Would he forgive her? Now that the hormonal cycle was concluding, was he even interested in her anymore?

"Hey…I heard what happened with the androids…" She started.

He huffed and turned his back to her, fury leaking from him.

"It doesn't matter. I will destroy the remaining ones and this 'Cell' creature- proving my power once and for all!" He stated.

Bulma felt out of her depth. She reached out and touched his shoulder, only to have him wince and pull away.

"Vegeta…"

"I don't have time for your nonsense, woman. I need to destroy the enemy and then challenge Karkarot, those are my only goals."

His voice was cold, though his words sounded rehearsed. There were gentle little clues about how he was feeling which only Bulma would be able to read.

He was facing away: he did not feel confident enough to look at her and his expression was subject to change therefore must be hidden.

His arms were crossed: defensive gesture, an expression of vulnerability.

His words were rehearsed: he did not trust himself to speak from his heart.

Bulma smiled slightly.

"The fight with the androids…It made me realise I didn't want to lose you without you knowing how I feel about you," She said calmly.

He twitched but stayed where he was.

"We were going to get married, but then with this new baby thing…I'd rather have you and Trunks than have a big family with anyone else… Truth is, I've been so absorbed with Trunks and we've been fighting a lot and I needed time to realise…" Bulma trailed off, watching his body language for any sign of resignation. "Vegeta, I still want to marry you."

He turned his face towards her slightly but took a long time to speak. Finally, he sighed and faced her, dropping his arms to his sides.

"I have to fight now, my focus must be on that."

To her great disappointment, he turned away and started back to the others to retrieve his armour.

"Hey!" She called after him, "Are we gonna talk after…?"

He stopped for a moment and gave her the ghost of a nod before continuing back, his swagger returning to his walk.

To be continued

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,   
> Thanks for the support so far, always appreciated!! Big thank you for reading, as always!   
> Any comments/feedback, I am always grateful for, plus it's good to get ideas and opinions from readers, so please don't be shy!   
> More to come, watch this space...


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick thank you for reading, bookmarks, kudos etc, it all means a lot.  
> The next two chapters are sort of a slide sideways and flash back: They center around the androids arrival in future Trunks timeline and puts him into context a little.
> 
> Who was the alternative Vegeta and what happened to him after Goku died of the heart virus? What was his relationship like with future Trunks' mother?
> 
> Read on to find out, let me know your thoughts.
> 
> warning: angst, major character deaths, self destructive thoughts.

#  Mirai Vegeta Part 1

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

"Authorities have attempted to placate the public about the heart virus outbreak, however some leading medical teams across the cities have defied the government's attempts to 'play down' the situation and have stated: "This virus is highly contagious and must not be allowed to spread. All affected citizens must remain in quarantine until they are seen by professionals". Officials are yet to comment on this, we will now go live to our reporter in North City…"

"Turn that off!" Bulma ordered from the kitchen, "Its lunch time anyway!"

Vegeta grunted with disapproval, weighing up his options. His hunger won out against his worry about the outbreak so he followed her instructions and went to the kitchen, having switched the channel.

The table was filled with food from all the corners of the globe. On seeing it, the prince silently counted his blessings that he had chosen to settle on a planet with such abundance.

Bulma sat down next to him at the table, a cup of tea in her hand.

She groaned as she sat, trying to avoid bumping her increasingly large pregnancy belly into the table.

"More scare stories on that damned virus, huh? Why do you watch that anyway?" She asked, watching him load his plate.

He snorted in response.

"I have no immunity to ANY of your diseases: a cold could spell my end. Excuse me for taking an interest in a potentially fatal pandemic!" He barked.

He ignored Bulma's eye roll and tucked in to his food, suddenly famished.

After the shock of the pregnancy and the realisation that his mating cycle had begun, Vegeta had finally started to become used to being partnered with the Earth Woman.

He had an attachment to her which he didn't understand, choosing to put it down to hormones rather than emotions, but had settled into a routine which involved her and lived a comfortable life.

He still trained, having become a Super Saiyan earlier in the year, but with only the quest to defeat Kararot in his mind, he was enjoying not having enemies.

Not that he was becoming complacent.

He remembered one trainer he had when he was a small child who would leap out and attack him when he seemed at the most relaxed, hammering home the importance of vigilance and alertness. With his life one absent minded act away from being taken most of the time, the soldier had grown to maintain a constant sense of battle bordering on paranoia.

"It's not being 'paranoid' if it's true," he would argue with his Fiancé.

With a new challenge of parenthood around the corner and experiencing peace for the first time in his memory, the saiyan was actually starting to look with hope to the future.

Bulma clicked her tongue next to him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"We need to choose a date for the wedding," she stated.

He pulled a face and looked away in annoyance.

"I don't care, choose whenever. I'm not staying for long and it's not going to be as ostentatious as those ridiculous shows you watch so it hardly matters!" He spat.

All the woman seemed to want to discuss was the baby or the wedding. It was infuriating and, to him at least, a puerile waste of time. As long as she was formally bonded to him via a human ceremony, it guaranteed his paternity to future children, as well as securing the lifestyle to which he had become accustomed. Outside of that, the wedding could not matter less to him.

"Wow," Bulma said, scowling at him, "You really are a romantic, aren't you? Aren't I a lucky girl?"

She got up and stormed out, leaving him a little bemused but happy to be left in peace.

His voyage back into his own head did not last long, interrupted as it was by the phone ringing.

Of all the technology Earth possessed, the phone was the prince's least favourite. The damn thing made a noise until the person being contacted spoke to the person on the other end, whatever they happened to be doing at the time. It was inconvenient and annoying.

"Woman! Stop that noise!" He commanded, finishing his meal and marching into the yard to get away. "Woman!"

"I heard you, master!" Came the hostile reply.

He heard her answer the infernal contraption and looked out over the back yard. It was alive with colour. The flowers his future mother-in-law had planted were in full bloom, decorating the borders with a rainbow which was very pleasing to look at.

He sat on the grass, basking in the warm glow of the sun, waiting for his meal to digest enough to train.

Bulma ran out of the house looking frantic and upset. His instincts peaked and an unsettled feeling pooled in his stomach.

"Vegeta!" She called, rushing over to his seated form, "Vegeta, it's Goku!"

"On the phone? What did he want? What's wrong?"

"No, it was Chi Chi on the phone. It's ABOUT Goku…Vegeta he's sick- they think he has the heart virus!"

Bulma collapsed onto the grass beside him and buried her face into his chest seeking comfort. Usually he would have pushed her away, but not this time. His thoughts halted completely and he stared ahead of himself, numb.

* * *

Vegeta performed three back flips and landed awkwardly. The gravity had been set too high, he knew that but continued to push his body anyway. His knee and ankle shot with pain. Ignoring it, he flew up and practiced counter moves, barely protecting his injuries as he kicked the air.

He and Kakarot were the last saiyans left in the universe. Billions of his people had been reduced to a handful right before his eyes and he had been helpless to stop it.

He punched the air a little harder than he'd meant to and wrenched his arm causing him to shriek in pain.

He had always said he would kill Kakarot, humiliate him the way Vegeta had been when they had first fought, but now… His rival deserved a better end than being taken by a virus!

He landed, nursing his arm and limped to the control panel. He turned the machine off and sat, panting on the ground.

His thoughts were negative and cyclic, he needed to regain control.

The tail end of his hormone cycle was not helping, exacerbated by the fact the woman was refusing to engage in relations with him since her body had become uncomfortable with the pregnancy.

Sex had never been something he'd craved before but now that it was being withdrawn, he found himself frustrated.

_That must be it…it's her fault! I don't care about Kakarot, why would I?_

He got up and made his way carefully to the shower, avoiding the other inhabitants of the house. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he did not wish to speak to anyone.

* * *

Bulma rolled over to her other side, attempting to dry her eyes with her sleeve.

She could not believe it: Goku, her friend and the Earth's greatest hero was dead.

She let out a pained cry and felt more tears roll down her face. The baby kicked her in her belly, a reminder to try to stay calm.

"Oh, Goku…" She wept, "We miss you so much!"

He wasn't sure how or when he had passed out. His vision came back and he felt dizzy and confused.

Vegeta sat up and attempted to pull himself up but his exhausted body refused to obey him.

He slumped over and shook the cobwebs from his head.

Emotion: he had been trained out of it, but occasionally his feelings were too strong to be ignored.

A sense of crushing loneliness, a feeling of total isolation, had him overcome with the desire to destroy himself and he was not fighting it.

He was the last saiyan in existence. Every other member of his race was dead, there was no one left.

His breath caught as a sob threatened to bubble from his chest but he pushed it back down and cleared his mind.

He had come to train in the wilderness to get away from Bulma and her constant outbursts, however all the trip had done was trap him alone with his own crushing thoughts.

Suddenly, a voice pulled him out of his misery.

"Vegeta?"

He spun round on the floor so fast he nearly lost his balance, spotting Gohan hiding behind a large rock.

"W-what do you want, brat?" He snapped, his voice cracking from fatigue and lack of use.

How dare this child spy on him? Was he waiting to finish the prince off in the place of his wretched father? Was he waiting for Vegeta to be vulnerable before taking revenge for the events on Namak?

The sayan realised that were this the boy's intention, the prince was not in a state to fight.

Gohan hovered where he was, staring at the older man on the floor.

Vegeta scanned the child making a threat assessment and was surprised as his anger softened.

Gohan's eyes were red from crying. His body looked frail and his face was gaunt. Greif had clearly taken hold of him and he was powerless to fight it.

Just as Vegeta started judging his weakness, he shot an internal look at himself.

"How long have you been out here?" Gohan asked shakily, "You look like hell…"

"Whereas you look strong and war-like!" The prince snapped, his temper flaring, "You have clearly been overcome by pointless emotion: pathetic!"

Gohan's ki rose in response but faded quickly. The boy stumbled over to the broken man and, to Vegeta's horror and confusion, curled up in a ball with his head on his lap.

"You lost your father young, right?" Gohan asked in a tiny voice.

Vegeta took a long breath and attempted to clear his mind. What did the boy think he was doing?

"Yes."

"Did it feel like this?" The boy whispered, wetting the saiyan's armour with fresh tears.

The man felt his defences crumbling, his thoughts untangling and raw emotion taking over. He placed his hand on the boy's back in a way no one had ever done for him when he was a child. What was he fighting for anymore anyway?

"Yes."

**To be continued...**


	7. Chapter 7

#  Mirai Vegeta Part 2

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

"Gohan, do your homework!" Chi Chi cried from her usual spot on the sofa.

The Son family had been staying at Capsule Corp for several months at Bulma's invitation while the family came to terms with their loss.

Bulma watched as Gohan got quietly off his chair in the kitchen and trudged to the spare room.

She sighed and finished unpacking the baby blankets she had ordered and began breaking down the box they had come in.

Chi Chi had hardly moved from the couch. She was sleeping in the spare room she had been given at night, but spent most of the day in the living room under a blanket.

Curiously, Vegeta had been very tolerant of this, sitting with her when he wasn't training and encouraging her to eat at mealtimes, which she was getting better at.

He spent a great deal of time training with Gohan as well. The two seemed to have become close since Goku had passed away, Vegeta stepping into the void that Gohan's father had left.

Bulma smiled to herself and pushed the box behind the bin. He was going to be a good father after all…

"Is he doing his math?" Chi Chi asked.

Bulma poked her head round the boy's door and smiled.

"Yeh, looks like it!" She replied, "What a good little man you have there!"

"We'll have to teach your little one to be as studious and book-smart as Gohan," Chi Chi announced, sending a small shiver down Bulma's spine.

"We'll see…" Bulma answered in a non- comital tone.

* * *

Vegeta handed the bowl of eggs to Gohan at breakfast and glanced again at Bulma, who was nursing Trunks, his year old son.

His training from years growing up in the forces had instilled in him that routine and discipline was best, and this had been enforced on the family to pull them all through their grief. To the most part, no one objected, especially Gohan who seemed to thrive under such instruction.

"Boy," He barked between bites, "After breakfast you will train in the gravity room for two hours at one hundred times gravity, followed by two hours at normal. You will then eat and complete two hours of study, followed by two hours rest. Do you want me to repeat that?"

"No, sir," Gohan replied, buttering three slices of toast, "Are you going to train me later then?"

"Perhaps," The saiyan replied, mentally tallying off his own set of chores for the day.

Suddenly, his stomach dropped to the floor as an overwhelming sense of dread took over his mind.

He glanced at Gohan, only to find the boy had also frozen in place.

"What is it, guys?" Bulma asked, worry seeping into her voice.

"I-I'm not sure…Prince Vegeta?"

Vegeta registered the fact that Gohan had spoken to him, but found himself scanning for the answer in silence.

A city's worth of people had just vanished off the face of the Earth for no reason and with no clear cause…

"Sir?"

"Call the others, Gohan." He commanded.

The boy went one way while he strode to the bedroom to retrieve his combat suit.

Chi Chi and Bulma both blocked his path.

"What's going on? Tell us!" Chi Chi ordered, her face etched with concern.

"I am uncertain as yet but it seems the Earth is under attack. I need my armour," he replied, pushing them both to the side.

The boy ran in while he was changing and handed him his gloves respectfully.

"Piccolo, Yamcha and Tien are on their way to South City. Krillen is on his way here first…I don't understand! I can't sense anything but people dying-can you?"

"No. Remember what I have taught you, remain calm and keep focus. Do not allow yourself to become weak in the face of danger."

He pulled on his gloves and focused his own thoughts at the task at hand. He needed the other fighters to gather information, he could handle any new threat by himself, he was sure of that. His thoughts flickered for a moment on his child before becoming clear and ordered again.

"Come, boy, let us see who challenges the last of the saiyans."

* * *

The city was a blood bath by the time they arrived.

Bodies littered the streets, upturned cars and obvious signs of significant damage were everywhere the warriors turned.

Vegeta pressed forward towards Tien's fading energy allowing the chaos to wash over him without affect. He kept Gohan instinctively behind but allowed Krillen to rush ahead to save Tien.

His trained, disciplined eyes scanned the ruined city.

Blast marks meant there had been energy attacks involved and whomever it was, terror was not their goal: there were not enough survivors. The attack seemed random, only taking lives and causing damage, no sign of a planned approach, two maximum three assailants.

He turned and looked down at Gohan's frightened face.

"What do you see, Gohan?"

Gohan swallowed and made a quick assessment, his features fixing with concentration.

"Vicious but looks random… energy blasts were used, but we didn't sense them… maybe some sort of army too weak for us to detect?"

"No, the roads are too blocked for an army to have marched through. The blood pools are undisturbed as well, no sign of a mass group…" The prince dismissed, "Otherwise, good observations."

The pair pressed on, only to come to a stop as they felt Krillen's energy vanish with Tien's.

Gohan let out a noise but was hushed with a quick look from Vegeta.

They picked up a familiar energy from the far side of the city and went to join Piccolo while suppressing their own signals.

Gohan ran to the green warrior who was sat in the shell of a ruined skyscraper, purple blood oozing out of open wounds.

"What happened, Mr Piccolo? Where're the others?" The boy asked.

Vegeta crouched next to the Namek a little way away, locking his onyx eyes on him waiting for an answer.

"They're androids built by a scientist called Doctor Giro. There're two of them, immensely powerful and completely hell bent on destruction! They killed their own creator and are now running rampant across the city- we couldn't stop them!"

Gohan shot a look to Vegeta who concentrated on keeping any emotion off his face. He fixed his eyes with a steely glare and stood.

"I will deal with these 'androids', you two stay here."

"NO!" Piccolo shouted, "You're going to need help, they're too strong!"

Vegeta smirked.

"Please, spare me, Namek! Clearly these three years of peace have made you soft! This battle has taken its toll on you, allow the REAL warriors to take over!"

Piccolo got up and took off his weighted clothing, his wounds beginning to heal themselves.

"There's no way I'm letting you go out there without me and Gohan! They're too much for you, believe me: you will get yourself killed!"

"Please, listen to him, Prince Vegeta!" Gohan implored.

The saiyan watched a look of confusion at his title being used flash on the Namek's face, but was quickly replaced by determination.

_It may be foolish to rush in without knowing what I'm up against…_

"Fine, we'll do it your way!" he spat, "But not Gohan."

* * *

Bulma was doing her best not to worry. The men had been gone for several hours and there were reports on the news of explosions and city wide destruction not all that far away.

Chi Chi had retreated under her blanket and was refusing to turn off the news in case she missed any details about the location of her son.

Bulma sat down with her, Trunks placed at their feet on the rug.

"It's ok, Chi Chi, he's with Vegeta and the others! I'm sure everything is just fine," she assured her friend.

The other woman glared at her, clearly unconvinced.

"Gohan is ALL I HAVE, Bulma. He's my little boy and I'm so scared of losing him! I won't calm down until he's safe in my arms, surely you feel the same! Vegeta's missing too!"

Bulma nodded and busied herself making tea for them both. She started putting together a tray of cakes before pausing and staring into the middle distance, a strange feeling coming over her.

"…I love you too…" she whispered to the air.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come in this series so watch this space.
> 
> Please feel free to leave comments, I do always read them and feedback is appreciated.
> 
> Otherwise, a big thank you for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeds on from the normal time line after Future Trunks leaves to go back to his time, so basically follows from chapter 5 and takes place a few months after the Cell Games.
> 
> The Wedding: Parts 1 and 2 are sort of drawing it to a close. I have explained to some people who have been in touch that I have ongoing plans, and I do, but I'm about to have a baby (!) so am putting endings on my works for now to pick back up later.
> 
> I thought long and hard on how to conclude this work, but this feels like a natural place to leave it, I hope you all agree...
> 
> As usual, thank you for your kudos, bookmarks and subs, comments and for reading, I really do appreciate it!

#  The Wedding: Part 1

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

Vegeta rolled over in the bed in the hotel and looked at the clock.

As usual, he had woken before his alarm, not that human alarm clocks were any comparison to sirens of a red alert on a command ship or the cold rush of water in a space pod, but still-they did the job.

The prince groaned and rolled onto his back, the reality of the day he had to endure settling into his mind. A human wedding ceremony, all to keep that harpy woman from leaving him.

At least Kakerot would not be there to witness his humiliation.

At least it was not as bad as it could have been. The woman had started with the idea of more than two thousand guests, a wedding dress with diamonds sown into it, doves, a choir….The saiyan screwed up his face at the memory.

He was a warrior, he was not there to play dress up and be shown off to a crowd like an accessory. Added to this were the lies he would have to tell about 'honouring and obeying' her, he certainly did not wish to be declaring that in front of a huge crowd.

"So a man will ask you to declare you belong to me and you will confirm this?" He had asked. Bulma had become very angry at this and explained marriage was not about possession- just before explaining her father would 'give her' to him.

The prince rolled his eyes and groaned. I'll never understand that stupid female! He thought to himself.

At least he had his own little trip planned for later…

The saiyan got up and pulled the bedsheets onto the bed, leaving it tidy, before padding to the bathroom and stepping under the shower.

How should he be feeling on this day? He really had no idea. This was just for show anyway, but should he care?

After the Cell Games, Kakerot's death and everything else that had gone on in the last few months, he had come to accept that his mating instincts had bonded him to her and he could not just walk away. She was so confusing to him, a weakness and a strength rolled into one stunning body…

He shook his head, his thoughts going into a distracting direction.

She had seemingly come to accept that she would have to wait until he became fertile again, and he had agreed to go ahead with the wedding in an effort to tie her to him as much as he was to her. To his surprise, she was still happy to do so.

_What does she see in me anyway?_

He scrubbed his body before taking a little more time with his hair, then turned off the water and stepped out into the steamed-up bathroom.

Before he could grab a towel, there was a knock on the door.

* * *

Bulma looked out across the yard from the balcony, nursing her morning coffee and keeping an eye out for her stylist.

Trunks had been taken by her parents to get ready so that she as the bride could enjoy getting ready by herself.

She felt nervous but excited at the same time.

Today was the day she would marry the man who she had fallen so in love with after years of uncertainty. She hoped he loved her too, though he held his emotions so close to his chest, there was really no way to be sure!

A breeze whispered through her hair and she closed her eyes, smiling with it.

He had his own ways of showing her he cared, she knew that. He was a damaged man with a nightmarish history, not prone to outpouring of sentiment; but it wasn't that he didn't feel. He wrestled with his emotions constantly, she could see the epic internal wars which raged in his mind, the flicker of a million moments reflecting in his eyes when he thought she couldn't see.

The man loved intensely, if not, wisely.

Her smile widened and her eyes opened as she heard the sound of the stylist's car coming down the driveway.

* * *

Vegeta watched with amusement as his rival's weakling friends jumped back in surprise as he answered the door naked and dripping wet.

He leaned on the door frame, comfortable with his state of undress and eyed them all in turn.

"What are you guys doing here? Hadn't you heard I'm busy with the woman's nonsense this morning? I can't give you a rematch right now…unless you really want to die today?"

"Er…actually, we're here to bring you your tux and get you to the venue…" Krillin said quickly, looking defiantly at the ceiling.

"Yeh," Yamcha added, his face bright red, "we were ordered to by the bride…"

Vegeta looked at Gohan, who was staring at the floor, and huffed before walking back to the bathroom and leaving the door open for them.

He dried himself quickly and placed the towel around his waist to save the fools further embarrassment.

Where he had grown up, there was no such thing as modesty, nor privacy. Everything from showering to sex was done in front of anyone who was stationed with you- there was much more openness in such a war dominated environment.

Humans were so bazaar: happy to show violence in children's films yet demanding women cover themselves when breastfeeding. They would cover their bodies-even on hot days out of shame and in the name of decency, yet would advertise products from underwear to dish soup using half naked models and not think twice about it. He could not keep up with the contradictions and usually did not even try.

"How are you feeling then, Vegeta?" Krillin was asking through the bathroom door, "You nervous?"

The prince walked back into the room and glared at him. As if he, the man who had fought in countless battles-the man who had bled on billions of worlds and stared death in the face and laughed, would be nervous of a ceremony.

"No, of course not," He snapped, "It is a meaningless day in order to keep the woman happy, that's all!"

Yamcha got up and met his eyes angrily.

"You'd better not upset her, Vegeta!" He warned, "Bulma is really excited about today, don't mess it up for her!"

Vegeta stepped forward with more hostility than he needed to exude, but it did the trick and Yamcha hurriedly dropped his stance.

"I have every intention of going through with this idiocy, weakling, mark my words," Vegeta explained, "But I don't need any of you holding my hand. Now you can all leave!"

Krillin gave him a slightly hurt look but placed the suit on the bed and followed Gohan and Yamcha out.

"We'll be outside then, Vegeta, we need to leave in an hour…" He said before shutting the door behind them.

* * *

Bulma sipped her glass of champagne and giggled to herself, watching her stylist pin the next section of hair up and get out the curling irons.

"Are you excited, Miss Brief?" The woman asked, a warm look on her face.

Bulma nodded as much as she could with her hair being tugged on and looked at her own refection.

"Plus all this pampering, a girl could get used to this!" She laughed, downing her drink and pouring herself another.

The stylist brushed the section of hair in her hand and curled it before fixing it in place.

"So what's he like?" She asked, "Handsome? Strong? Rich?"

The two women grinned at each other in the mirror and Bulma rolled her eyes afterwards.

"He's a 'prince'," she answered, cackling at her own little in-joke.

"He's a lucky man!" came the reply, "I'll make sure you'll be so beautiful he won't be able to get his vows out!"

Bulma squealed at the thought of Vegeta's face when he saw her and drank deeply.

"Oh yes! Today is going to be the best day of my life!"

* * *

"Today is going to be the worst day of my life…" Vegeta grumbled, picking up the tailored suit and turning it over in his hands. "Why do I need to wear this ridiculous costume?"

He realised after he had undone the tie from the hanger that he would need one of the pathetic earthlings to do it back up again. The knowledge of this angering him more.

He pulled the white shirt on with his underwear (uncomfortable human clothing which would be better left off) followed by the trousers and stared at himself for a moment.

He remembered wearing a high collared white suit when he was a boy, complete with golden buttons, a shining green amulet with a moon on it and a small silver crown. He could not recall why he had been dressed in such garments, only that his discomfort and embarrassment were the same then as they were now.

He had a momentary flash of a woman standing next to him in a long red gown, her raven hair braided in an intricate design and a warm kindness about her. He shook it off and brought himself back to the mirror.

"I swear, I will destroy anyone foolish enough to laugh!" He promised himself.

* * *

Bulma looked at herself in the full length mirrors in her room and wanted so badly to cry with joy. Her hair had been twisted up into an elegant up-do, loose aqua curls were cascading down her back. Her veil was fixed in place with a delicate silver and diamond tiara with matching diamond earrings, finished with a stunning diamond choker necklace.

The sleeves and upper bodice of her gown were white lace with a fitted, flowing silk skirt and train behind. The dress concealed her white corset and stocking undergarments which she was looking forward to revealing later in the evening.

She looked and felt like a princess: it was a dream come true.

"Are you pleased, Miss Briefs?" The stylist asked from the side, her dark hair and bright eyes shining in the morning sunlight.

Bulma twirled on the spot and nodded.

"I hope you're ready for this, Vegeta!" She said quietly, "I'm about to blow your saiyan mind!"

* * *

Vegeta exited the hotel room with his tie loose around his neck and a pointless flower clutched in his hand. The female android, '18' had joined the group waiting outside and to his surprise, strode over to help with his tie.

"Can't believe you're actually doing this," she muttered as she created the complex knot, "Just say the word and we can run off and blow up a city or two instead?"

The prince chuckled and allowed the assistance.

"Tempting, but I'll pass. I hear it's you who is to marry next?" He asked.

She nodded and gave him a knowing smile.

"Humans and their sentiments…" she replied, though her face reddened slightly.

She finished the knot and fixed it at his collar before taking the flower and threading it into a hole at the top of his jacket.

He looked at the other's outfits to find his was very similar and therefore felt his embarrassment lessen.

"Ready, Vegeta?" Krillin asked, smiling broadly, "then let's get you hitched!"

* * *

The venue Bulma had chosen was a large mansion garden with statues and strangely trimmed bushes decorating it.

There were a few dozen rows chairs laid out for the small ceremony, draped tastefully in white linin. Bouquets of colourful flowers decorated every blank space and table top, giving the place a bright, happy feel and pulled away from the formality.

Vegeta, despite himself, smiled a little at the pleasant décor before wiping his face of emotion, save anyone seeing his expression.

Mr and Mrs Briefs walked up, both dressed in elegant outfits and Mrs Brief sporting a large-brimmed hat. She held his toddler son in her arms who was comically tugging at the elastic of his own tie.

Vegeta greeted them with a small tilt of his head and watched the others gather around them, chatting animatedly.

 _Why did she insist on everyone being here like this?_ He thought angrily.

"Oh, Vegeta!" Mrs Briefs was saying, wiping her eyes of a tear, "You look so handsome, dear! Oh, Bulma's going to feel SO lucky when she sees you!"

He scoffed and looked away, only to jump as her hand ghosted over his rear end as she passed.

"Our little grandson has been so well behaved, you should be very proud," The old man smiled, unaware of anything untoward.

"It's your daughter I'm interested in now: where is she?" The prince snapped.

"She'll be along in a minute, don't you worry!" His future father in law answered.

Gohan grabbed the Saiyan's sleeve and started tugging him to the front of the chairs, just before a large table which was decorated with flowers.

"Ah, hello, Mr Vegeta," The man at the front greeted, standing and offering a hand for him to ignore.

The man was some sort of official who Bulma had chosen to conduct the service, though Vegeta had taken an instant dislike to him. They had given him their papers (Vegeta's all forged by Capsule Corp) and he had asked them a series of questions which Vegeta had found personal and prying.

Nevertheless, here he was and Vegeta knew he had to hold in his contempt for a few hours more.

"Hello…" He replied absently.

The band (a small group of string players, talked down from a sixty piece orchestra) took their seats near the front and started playing in the background as other guests started arriving.

A billion fights on countless worlds…so why was he suddenly nervous?

The crowd was growing and Vegeta found himself glancing at Bulma's family and friends, seeking reassurance, though the reasons eluded him. He had faced Freiza, the androids, Cell and countless other foes, he could handle this.

The guests started to quiet down as they found their seats. There must have been only around a hundred, but sweat rolled down the Saiyan's neck as their eyes fell on him expectedly.

_This is absurd! The ceremony is meaningless to me! I will not lose my cool over this._

He cleared his mind of stray thoughts and focused, much the same as he would have in battle, taking time to slow his breathing and fix a neutral expression on his features.

His work was slightly undone, however, when everyone started gasping and looking up as Bulma's energy came into range.

The hover car she had chosen was white and long, silver and chrome adorning it. It was powered by two huge rocket engines, helping the car perform a breath-taking display for the startled onlookers and landing gracefully at the top of the isle.

A young man wearing a white suit ran up to the side door and opened it, assisting Bulma as she stepped out and looped her arm into the waiting arm of her father.

Vegeta had to concentrate on keeping his mouth closed.

The woman was a vision of female perfection.

He had seen her dressed up for conferences and parties, seen her giving birth to their son, seen her sweating, naked under him: but never had he seen her like this. It was as though the woman he'd come to know so well had been replaced by another, somehow more perfect version of herself and he found he could not tear his eyes away.

She caught him staring, but he was beyond caring. As her blue eyes met his onyx ones, he admitted to himself, deep down, that this was not just hormones…

**To be continued…**


	9. Chapter 9

#  The Wedding: Part 2

By Chrizzii

* * *

 

 

The ceremony was a lot more of an endurance test than the prince had imagined it would be.

His legs felt like lead the entire time the official was addressing the crowd, babbling some nonsense about what marriage means, and his mind kept wondering to his plans after…

He was standing close to Bulma, his partner of a few years, though she was so beautiful he barely recognised her.

He remembered when this had all begun: A slight brush of his hand over her shoulder as he passed one day, a kiss on the cheek which lingered too long, a shy invitation to share a blanket on the couch one evening…

He could hardly how much is life had changed in such a short space of time.

He was confused and embarrassed, shy and overjoyed, panicked and contented all at once.

He so uncharacteristically lost in thoughts, he almost missed the question the official was asking him.

"Will you, Vegeta?" He asked.

The Prince's mind pulled him back into reality and he glanced at his mate again.

"I will…" He replied, quieter than intended.

His face flushed as Bulma was asked the same question and she gave the same answer.

She also seemed to be uncertain what it was she was agreeing to: her voice seemed equally distant.

Trunks was carried up to the front after a wave from the official, held by an enthusiastic looking Gohan.

The toddler had a little pillow on his chubby hand with the rings tied to it which he waved at his mother with glee.

She carefully took it off him while Vegeta rolled his eyes, the guests all making sickening noises to express how adorable the child was being found.

Bulma kissed her son on his head before handing her small ring to Vegeta.

He gently pushed it onto her finger, feeling every bit a complete fool and allowed his mate to place a ring on his.

"And by the power vested in me by West City, I now pronounce you Man and Wife!" The official announced to a cheer from the audience.

Vegeta blinked and looked to Bulma for confirmation.

_That's it? It's over?_

"You may now kiss the bride!" The official added, grinning widely.

Vegeta watched her move close enough to get a good hold of before scooping her up into his arms and taking off into the sky.

"VEGETA! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU TAKING ME?!" Screamed his bride, kicking and wriggling in his grip, "PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!"

"Stop yelling or I'll let go and make myself a groom, husband and widower all in one day!"

* * *

Bulma was a mixture of furious and confused by the time they landed somewhere on the coast.

Her perfect hair-do had been tugged out and her hair was now falling in loose curls around her neck and shoulders, her veil and tiara having been lost to the wind.

She glared as her new husband tugged off his jacket and tie and led her down to a cave by the sea.

She stopped by the cavernous entrance and folded her arms.

"What the hell, Vegeta?" She snapped, "I'm not going any further until you explain!"

"I believe you just promised to 'obey' me?" Came the snide reply.

Bulma fumed and watched him disappear into the darkness, unsure suddenly of what to do.

She was stuck in the middle of nowhere with no means of escape, other than her alien lover who seemed to have other plans.

The cave was bringing back frightening memories of Namek and the surf would no doubt splash her dress if she followed him in…

Bulma huffed and weighed her options, picking up her dress as much as she could and following him, taking care of her satin shoes.

* * *

Her eyes strained in the darkness as she crept inside. There was a light at the end and there was a pleasant sound of crashing waves echoing off the rock faces.

She inched her way along before coming out where the cave opened up into a vast cavern.

The heiress gasped as her eyes took in the sight.

The place had been lit with candles, their warm glow casting beautiful shadows on the stalactites and stalagmites within. There was a glass bowl with water in it on a flatter rock, flowers floating on the surface.

Her new husband was standing off to the side, his face unreadable, arms crossed and one leg up slightly.

"What's all this?" She asked, stumbling closer.

He gestured for her to sit in a space in front of the glass bowl before kneeling at the other side of it.

"I told you I did not know anything else about Saiyan mating when we last discussed it…" He reminded her.

She cast her mind back and nodded in agreement.

"I lied."

Bulma's brow furrowed and she stared at him open mouthed.

"Ok..?"

The saiyan fixed his gaze on the floor, a serious look coming over his face.

"The Saiyans were very religious. We had various Gods, myths, legends and heroes, all taken very seriously by our people. I remember being taught certain things, though I stopped talking to the Gods after…" He trailed off and looked pained, as if a horrible memory had entered his mind. "Well…" he said quietly, "I stopped caring about them when they stopped caring about us…"

"You mean, after the planet was destroyed?" She asked gently.

Vegeta gave a slight nod before raising his gaze to her eyes. Bulma felt frozen in place by his intensity.

"We've done this the wrong way round. This ceremony should be performed before a child is conceived, but as it happened…"

"It was way too much fun making him?" Bulma suggested playfully.

She chastised herself when he glared at her in response.

"I was not aware the hormonal release had started and no one is left who would have been able to warn me." He explained.

Bulma nodded, embarrassed by her previous comment.

He clearly was taking this very seriously, though she had no idea why. Vegeta was not a sentimental being and had never talked about traditions of the saiyans. The only thing her had ever mentioned was the Super Saiyan myth, though if she was honest, she was always too afraid to ask about his home world since he was always so guarded.

"We are supposed to announce our union to the Gods and promise ourselves to each other. I don't know every part exactly, but I thought it only suiting considering I am royalty."

Bulma started to smile. Here he was, taking his devotion to her seriously- and he was being open about it! After the wedding in front of their family and friends, being alone in this sea cave performing some alien ceremony felt exhilarating- and to be granted access to his culture like this...

"Where do we start?" She asked, pulling her hair back.

She caught him looking at her again, the same hungry way he had looked at her when she had stepped out of the car, but he seemed to dispel it and fixed her in his gaze.

"The candles represent my family. It may not surprise you to hear, my house is symbolised by fire…"

Bulma rolled her eyes. Definitely no surprise there.

"I have used water to symbolise yours. It is an opposing element, but equally powerful and a force in itself: I believed it to be the most appropriate…"

The heiress blushed and nodded in agreement.

"We drink from a side of this bowl each, it reflects the promise to share what we have with each other…"

She watched as he lifted the bowl and drank from it before handing it across to her. She felt butterflies as she took it off him and put it to her own lips. The liquid was cool and refreshing, she felt it travel down her throat and into her stomach while she gently rested the container back between them.

Her eyes became wide as she suddenly spotted a blade in his hand.

"Hey, pal, wait a minute!" She protested.

Quick as a flash, the metal bit into her neck and a trickle of blood ran down her collar bone and onto the top of her perfect white dress. She cried out in shock and anger before she was pulled over the bowl. Her blood dripped in thick beads into the surface of the water until it sunk down below the surface.

He let go of her and she grabbed her wound, swearing furiously.

The prince ignored her and opened a vein on his arm, dripping the crimson liquid into the water to join hers.

"Of course, it would be a saiyan tradition to bleed everywhere!" She snapped angrily.

He gently placed his hand over the cut on her neck and summoned his ki, sealing it shut, before doing the same to his own.

"Stop shrieking, woman, it's done!" He commanded.

Bulma was still furious. Sealed closed or not, that would leave a mark. She's have to wear something around her neck until the scar faded…

"So what's the blood thing for then?" She asked.

"What do you think?" He replied, "it's the signal of our intention to join our bloodlines together, we now wait for the spirit's approval…"

Bulma stared at the surface with him, spellbound.

"How will we know?" She asked, intrigued.

Suddenly, the surface of the water caught fire, flames dancing on the surface in a contradictory, bazaar fashion.

The human screamed and threw herself back in fright,

"What the hell? How'd you do that?" She asked from her crumpled position on the floor.

Vegeta stood, the fire making his face look defined, adding a sharpness to his features which reminded her he was not human.

"I did nothing." He stated.

* * *

Bulma lay on the stone cavern floor before him, her dress revealing her shapely legs and her shock serving to amuse him.

The ritual he had performed with her had been taught to him by Nappa one day when Raditz had panicked and thought his mating cycle had begun. Vegeta was around twenty when he had been tutored on it, though he had never thought he'd actually have any use for it.

This planet, this woman, this time of peace…it was changing him. Quite how or into what, he was not sure, but in this moment, all he felt certain of was Bulma.

He reached down and helped her up, letting her lean towards him and finally press her lips to his.

He reciprocated the kiss, gently guiding her into the waves with him.

The two lovers entwined together in the surf, bathed in candlelight, their devotion declared before family, friends and the saiyan Gods themselves.

As they consummated their marriage in the water, neither ever wanted to let go of the feeling of completeness, like a journey they had undertaken together and had reached their destination.

From the initial rush of hormones and lust, two lost souls had found each other, never to part again.

**The End.**

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> I decided to go a little off the traditional V and B story lines and do something a bit different all along this work, to write something not necessarily seen before, so this theme is repeated in the last chapter. Have slipped in a few 'traditional tid-bits' in there though for more eagle-eyed readers, as well as plenty of metaphors.
> 
> I appreciate it wont be everyone's taste, but a big thank you for all of the support I have received writing this, I have loved reading the feedback and seeing my own writing from different angles. 
> 
> There will be other shorts and maybe even additions to this work when I have the time, watch this space!
> 
> Thank you, everyone x


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